This Will be Brief. . .

because I am still worn out from my weekend. Saturday night we went out to celebrate Mademoiselle W, my brother's fiancé. Ironically, everyone there was younger than me but MY MOTHER, and she's the only one I couldn't keep up with. That scrawny little kitten's a lot of fun to party with.

This is not the place for me to re-cap the night. I don't want to get disbarred. Let's just say there was a sea of jello shots, Mlle. W was wearing my brother's underwear on her head at one point, and by the end of the night I was as cantankerous as Red Forman from "That 70's Show." Oh, and during the middle of the night MY MOTHER tried to cuddle up to my sister-in-law, because she thought it was MY FATHER.

[FN Next time you see MY FATHER and Mdme. S, please give each of them a hug and see if you could ever make the same mistake. Now, Mdme. S and MY MOTHER both have washboard stomachs (if they've had a drink, they will show you) so you could get those two hungry wenches confused, but MY FATHER? Ha, ha, he wishes.]

Anyway, while my behavior over all was NOT very good (For example, I stole Mlle. W's illustrated Kama Sutra, and I'm not giving it back to her until I've put little notes in it to help her out. She's from Illinois, after all), I was pretty good about food. I walked at home before we left, didn't eat any dinner, or chips, dips, brownies or Smartfood. Mdme. S buys it to taunt me. The next day I had an egg sandwich on a bagel with home fries for brunch, which was not too much food considering what I had been through the night before. It was wonderful, though the bagel was second rate. I also really don't like restaurant home fries that much. I wish we'd gone for lunch, so I could have had a hamburger and fries. I would eat a hamburger and fries for breakfast every day if I could. With a chocolate shake.

[FN In this Nirvana, after my burger breakfast, I'd have soup for lunch every day, with homemade tut-a-lings (yes, we really call them that). If you've never had my family's homemade tut-a-lings (a.k.a. tortellini) they are the best food in the universe. They are better than any pasta I have had in the United States (not surprising) or Italy (I was there for a week, so I'm quite the expert). They are served in a red broda (broth) and they are filled with meat and cheese. I hope you never try them, because if someone makes them for you, that's one less time that I got to have them (they take a lot of time to make). If I could, I would lock my grandmother up and make her make a certain quota each day. If she did not meet the quota, I would read ridiculously contrived novels to her until she moved her little butt (she's not a big Sci Fi fan). I bet one novel about robots would yield about a thousand tut-a-lings. Of course, if I did lock her up, my goddamned cousins would mug me and steal all the tut-a-lings she'd made for me, so it probably is just as well to let her run free. If you are reading this, Gramma, I'm not trying to be subtle. Feel free to finish working, go home and make some toots! Don't whine to me about being 87 and working full time, just get to work. Her generation just doesn't know how to work.]

I did have two small pieces of takeout pizza on Sunday as well, which was not a good idea, but as I said, I was running on fumes.

Today I had a chicken salad (chicken, fat free yogurt, nuts, dried cranberries and cumin -- got the recipe from my mother in law) on a wrap, and an apple. I'm hoping that I see 126.5 tomorrow. I'll let you know.